


Three Mathoms - A Baggins Birthday Celebration

by Rakshi



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-20
Updated: 2013-06-20
Packaged: 2017-12-15 14:44:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/850751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rakshi/pseuds/Rakshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Here are three tribble mathoms, one from Sam, one from Frodo, and one from Bilbo... all celebrating Bilbo and  Frodo's birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Mathoms - A Baggins Birthday Celebration

Sam's Mathom

Sam bent to ease the rose from its bed in the garden. Tenderly he wrapped it in a damp cloth and carried it into Bag End. It would be a gift for Rosie… a pretty flower to brighten her table at breakfast.

As Sam eased the rose into a vase he sighed quietly. “Tis a Mathom,” he murmured. “But no one but their Sam will know or remember.”

He filled the vase with water and sat it in at the center of the table where Rosie was sure to see it when she woke.

Bag End was quiet. It was too early for Rosie or the children to be up and about, and Sam was content to sit on a bench in his garden and smoke his morning pipe as the sun rose over the fields of the Shire.

’Tis your birthday, my love,’ he thought. ‘And Mister Bilbo’s too.’ And as his eyes burned with tears and the familiar ache of longing filled his heart he wondered if, from far across the endless sea, his love thought of him at that moment just as the thought of Frodo filled his mind and heart.

“I send my blessings to you both,” he murmured, wiping his eyes. “Long life, joy and peace. I wish these things for you.” Sam sighed and thoughtfully blew a smoke ring. “And one thing more I wish, my treasure,” he whispered. “I wish that you remember me and not forget your Sam who still loves you so dearly and who longs to be with you.”

This day always brought special pain to Sam’s heart. But he also rejoiced that his love had lived and continued to live. For this thought renewed his hope that one day they would, as Frodo had promised, be once again… together.

 

Frodo's Mathom

Frodo Baggins walked alone upon a sandy shore. Now and then he stopped to gaze yearningly toward the sea whose waves rolled to his very feet.

He had spent the morning finishing a Mathom, for today was his birthday. The Mathom was a special one, a book of Elven songs that Frodo himself had hand written to give to his Uncle Bilbo. They had been taught to him by one of Galadriel’s minstrels who had assured him that Bilbo had never heard them before. It would be a grand surprise which the old gentle-hobbit would greatly enjoy.

But Frodo hadn’t thought of Bilbo as he carefully inscribed the beautiful words. He had thought of someone else. Someone who loved Elven songs. Someone who would sometimes sing them to him in the night in a voice soft as velvet after they had…

But here Frodo faltered... his throat tight and aching with sadness. ’Will it never end?’ he thought. ’Will I never be able to think of him without feeling this terrible sadness tearing at my heart?’

“My Sam,” he whispered, as he stared with tear-filled eyes across the sea that sundered him from the one he loved most dearly. “Do you think of me?” He wiped his eyes. “Oh, I so want you to be happy, dear heart. And yet… I can’t deny that I also want you to remember me and long for me as I long for you.”

There would be a party tonight for Frodo and Bilbo. Gandalf would be there as would many other friends. But only part of Frodo’s heart would attend this celebration. Most of it rested in the study brown hands of a far-away gardener who had once sung Elven songs to him in the night… in a voice as soft as velvet.

 

Bilbo's Mathom

Bilbo Baggins didn’t think about age. No one on Tol Eressea thought about age… a fact which Bilbo found immensely gratifying, even on a day as auspicious as his birthday.

“A bit of shading and it’s done,” he muttered, carefully touching his pen to the parchment before him. Then, satisfied at last, he set the pen aside and looked closely at his creation. It was a drawing... a Mathom for his nephew, Frodo, with whom he shared his birthday.

Bilbo had been worried about Frodo lately. Though healed of his wounds and the darker memories that had once tormented him, his nephew still seemed deeply unhappy. Often Bilbo would see him walking alone by the shore, staring out at the waves.

He had asked what was amiss, but Frodo always steered the conversation into safer waters. Nevertheless, Bilbo was certain he knew the reason for Frodo’s distress and hoped that the Mathom would help to lift his nephew’s spirits.

Later, as their celebration began, he handed Frodo a package. “For our birthday, my lad.”

Frodo removed the paper then stared in silence while his eyes slowly filled. “Oh, Uncle….,” he choked in a voice thick with tears. 

In his hands he held a framed drawing. The picture was of a sturdy Hobbit dressed in simple workmen’s clothing, his hands clasped shyly behind his back. His plain, honest face seemed to exude both a quiet strength and a gentle, yet powerful, love.

“Sam,” Frodo whispered.

“I thought this might brighten your room,” Bilbo said quietly, “and, perhaps, your heart.”

Weeping, Frodo embraced the old Hobbit. “How can I thank you?”

“By remembering that Sam is also a Ringbearer. He would not want you to grieve, my boy, but to rejoice in the knowledge that one day… you will be together again.”


End file.
